


cradling emptiness

by lumberwoof



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season 2 spoilers, post-finale angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 10:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12010794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumberwoof/pseuds/lumberwoof
Summary: The morning after everything, Wynonna, Waverly, and Nicole deal with the unexpected emptiness that’s left behind and the grief that follows. (It takes time for them to understand what they've lost, even if willingly.)





	cradling emptiness

**Author's Note:**

> a fic written for a buddy on tumblr, who wanted some post-finale sads featuring my fave trifecta of ladies

Waverly wakes up in Nicole’s arms - a rarity since Nicole is usually awake before her to indulge in her terrifying habit of jogging (Waverly’s met demons and cardio is definitely one of them). Sunlight streams through the sheer curtains, gently painting the inside of her room in a soft glow. Waverly brushes Nicole’s hair from her face, tucks it behind her ear while sleeps, runs a thumb across her cheek. The memories of yesterday are lost to the peace of this morning, and she easily falls into her normal routine.

She presses a gentle kiss to Nicole’s forehead, ignores the way her bottom lip softly aches. Instead she stretches and gets out of bed, shoving her feet into her slippers. She digs her phone out from under Nicole’s utility belt on the bedside table, then grabs her robe off the back of the vanity chair and slips it on. Her newly purchased book on knitting is still sitting on the vanity and she runs her fingers over the cover reverently, thinking that maybe she’ll have time to thumb through it today.

The early morning chill is seeping in through the door, though, and she wraps her arms around herself, ready to brave it so she can make coffee, tea, and breakfast.

She heads downstairs, still in a sleepy haze. Takes note of where she cleared the walls for new family photos. Smiles as she thinks about getting to use her new knitting needles today, maybe even take a crack at making a little blanket or some tiny socks.

It’s automatic for her these days, once she reaches the bottom of the stairs, to peek into Wynonna’s room before she does anything else. To make sure that the mother-to-be is resting well. Wynonna grunts and shifts in her sleep, but it doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.

The phone buzzes in Waverly’s hand, showing her reminders for the day. Talk to Nicole, spend time with Wynonna, go and pick up the bassinet she’d ordered.

It all comes flooding back to her.

The third seal, the widows, the birth, the baby—

She chokes back a sob, covering her mouth so she doesn’t wake Wynonna, and ducks back into the hallway, leaning against the far wall.

_“What did Wynonna ask you to do?”_

_“The only thing she could.”_

Waverly can remember her mind racing, putting all the pieces together in her head. She can remember the exact moment her heart broke as Nicole kept speaking, as Waverly understood exactly what Wynonna intended to do.

_“Don’t be too hard on her, okay? She’s going to need you, after…”_

Even Nicole, brave Nicole, hadn’t been able to say the words aloud then.

She rushes to the bathroom, sniffling and scrubbing at her eyes. The last thing she wants to do is cry, but there’s so much building up inside. There’s so much grief and anger. Grief at the loss of the future she had spent weeks fantasizing about. Anger at Wynonna, at Nicole, for keeping this from her, for thinking that shielding her from the truth would somehow make it hurt less in the end. (It only made it hurt more.)

And yet she can’t fault either of them for the decision. Especially since she knows this hurts Wynonna so much more and god, Wynonna, who has spent so much of her life without someone she could rely on, deserves to have someone like Nicole, who she can trust to keep promises.

That doesn’t stop it from hurting, but she refuses to be someone else’s burden. So she leans over the sink, washes her face with cool water and does a breathing exercise, comes back to herself.

_Be strong, Waverly Earp,_ she thinks to herself.

She uses her full name without thinking, flinches for a second.

_No, not Earp._

_“Yes, Earp.”_

Even in her head, Wynonna’s voice doesn’t leave her. She dries her face and lets out a long breath, remembers the feeling of Peacemaker lighting up in her hand.

_Yes, Earp._

* * *

Nicole wakes up to a brief second of sleep paralysis and that’s all it takes to remember.

Bulshar.

Her breath comes in sharp and shallow as she rushes to sit up. The sight of vast open sky while she laid, unable to move, on the concrete is burned into her mind. She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes to try and rub the image away. Panic grips her tight but she fights it. Inhales for four, exhales for seven - repeats until she’s calmed down.

Sighing, Nicole slides out of bed and switches to autopilot as she gets dressed, taking the time to organize her thoughts. Things were tough yesterday, she needs to be strong for both of the Earps today. She can’t imagine how either of them are feeling now that there’s no apocalyptic adrenaline to numb the pain.

She sees Waverly’s knitting book on the vanity table and has to swallow back another nauseating pit of guilt.

_“I can’t betray her trust,” she had once told Wynonna._

_“I would never ask you to,” Wynonna had answered._

Only Wynonna had asked, and Nicole had agreed.

_“Wynonna, what you’re asking me to do—”_

_“I can’t ask anyone else to do this, Nicole - only you.”_

At the time she had thought it was because she wasn’t part of the inner circle, that Wynonna was protecting her family by asking someone outside of it to do the hard thing. Even though she sometimes felt like part of the inner circle, things like this always left her doubting. Then Waverly, in the sparse few days they’d had between the promise and the fight, had casually referred to her as Auntie Nicole.

Something drips onto the back of her hand as she’s rolling up her sleeves, and it takes Nicole a moment to realize she’s crying. She brushes the tears away with business like movements and makes her way downstairs to the kitchen.

Waverly’s there, working on breakfast while the coffee pot works its magic. She turns to face Nicole and gives her a soft smile, but there’s a hint of redness about her eyes.

She’s been crying.

Nicole is across the room in an instant, gently cradling her love in her arms. “Waverly, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Waverly says, jabbing a thumb into Nicole’s side before returning the hug. “I don’t see any hats, so no sorry party, got it?”

For a moment, Nicole goes back to yesterday, Waverly in her embrace and the baby cradled in between them. How effortless the whole thing had seemed, how easy it was to imagine them doing the same in this kitchen, waiting for Wynonna to wake up after some much deserved rest.

Nicole buries her face in Waverly’s hair, pretends her eyes aren’t burning.

“Got it.”

* * *

Wynonna’s leaning against the wall in the kitchen, watching Doc cradle Alice in his arms, smiling down at their little girl with watery eyes. Jeremy is there, too, leaning against the back of Doc’s chair and cooing at the baby, holding out a single finger for her to grasp.

Dolls leans against the wall next to Wynonna, smiling so warmly it fills the entire room. That warmth only grows as he watches the scene before them and puts a hand on Wynonna’s shoulder, never taking his eyes off of Doc and Alice.

“You did good, Earp,” he says, and kisses her cheek.

The door opens and Waverly walks in, trailed by Nicole and Rosita, who have a soft, friendly banter going between them.

Wynonna’s never seen Rosita on the Homestead before. It’s strange, but nice.

Doc looks up at Wynonna, no jealousy in his eyes, only affection. “Take her,” he says, motioning to the baby. “Take your angel.”

The words strike a dissenting chord in her chest.

“My what?”

Her voice sounds weird, sounds older and more traveled. Wynonna catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the hall and sees Mama Earp.

Doc’s face morphs into Bobo Del Rey’s, his voice a terrifying revenant growl. “Take your angel.”

Rosita takes the baby instead, looking up at Wynonna with horror and regret. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s a violent pain in her chest, like her heart’s being ripped out. Waverly’s nose starts to bleed.

Wynonna wakes up screaming her sister’s name.

She shudders, gasps for breath, curling in on herself. Tugging a pillow to her chest, she sobs into it, trying to shake off the terrifying images of her nightmare. Rosita didn’t take the baby, it went where it was supposed to, safe and far away from here. And Waverly… Waverly was okay.

Waverly, who’d encouraged Wynonna to nest, to buy forty thousand throw pillows for the house, who’d bought a baby rattle and god knows what else as she warmed up to the idea of being Auntie Waverly, whose face had broken when she’d realized what Wynonna’s plan had been all along.

Waverly.

And Wynonna had asked Nicole to be the one to keep that secret from her, knowing she was the one person that Waverly might forgive for this kind of heartbreak. Of course Nicole had thrown those words back at her, so earnestly, in the hospital. Wynonna didn’t have the heart to tell the dying woman that she didn’t believe them.

The door to her room slams open and Waverly is all over her in a second, arms curling around Wynonna, both to comfort and check for damage. She can hear someone else in the room, looks up to see Nicole checking the perimeter of the room for any enemies.

Typical narc.

Waverly grasps her chin, turns Wynonna to look at her, thumbs wiping the tears from Wynonna’s eyes.

Meeting Waverly’s watery gaze is too much.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry,” Wynonna manages through her choked sobs. “I didn’t want to.”

“I know, I know,” Waverly says, pulling Wynonna close. “Remember? What I said before? When I gave you Doc’s note?”

_“I’m not saying it’s going to be okay, I’m just saying I’m here.”_

Wynonna nods and looks up at Waverly again, holding her close. She can see the purpling bruise and split lip on her sister’s face and fights back another round of sobbing. How many more people have to get hurt because of her, Wynonna wonders. How much longer will they stay in the line of fire before they realize that she’s just not worth it?

She should’ve done more, she should’ve told Waverly from the start, she should’ve asked Rosita to help instead of threatening her. She should’ve done so many things different. And now that there’s room to breathe, everything is starting to cave in on itself.

Wynonna clutches Waverly tight, struggling to bite back the tears, but they keep coming and coming. She catches sight of Nicole resting awkwardly against the door, ready to protect but not wanting to intrude. The idea that Nicole thinks she isn’t welcome into this hot mess of a family just adds insult to injury.

In a way, Nicole has become the sister that Wynonna wanted back when Willa had first returned. She could trust Nicole with anything, had trusted her with everything. And Nicole, bless her heart, had pulled through for her.

Wynonna sniffles, hacks on a sob and clears her throat so she force some words out.

“Stop standing over there like an elk in the headlights, Haught,” she says. “You’re family, too, so get in here.”

Nicole makes a choked noise and blinks, eyes suddenly glassy. She crosses the room in two long strides and wraps both sisters in a tight embrace. Wynonna pretends to be put off when Nicole presses a kiss to Waverly’s crown, but then Nicole’s pressing another kiss to Wynonna’s crown and it’s all too much.

Wynonna bows her head into Nicole’s shoulder, blinking back tears. Waverly’s still pretending she isn’t crying into Wynonna’s chest, her hand fisted in Nicole’s shirt, and there’s a telltale sniffle above her from Nicole.

The tears in Wynonna’s eyes start to build again.

Nicole squeezes her and Waverly tighter.

“I got you, Earps.”


End file.
